I might be jetting off soon but we have plenty of bookish thoughts still to come before I do and, having seen that Outskirts by John Grindrod was in the offing, I was more than pleased when a copy arrived in the post..
'Coined by National Trust co-founder Octavia Hill at the end of the nineteenth century, the phrase 'Green Belt' originally formed part of an impassioned plea to protect the countryside. By the late 1950s, those idealistic Victorian notions had developed into something more complex and divisive. Green Belts became part of the landscape and psyche of post-war Britain, but would lead to conflicts at every level of society - between conservationists and developers, town and country, politicians and people, nimbys and the forces of progress....
The first book to tell the story of Britain's Green Belts, Outskirts is at once a fascinating social history, a stirring evocation of the natural world, and a poignant tale of growing up in a place, and within a family, like no other.'
And I grew up there too as I mentioned in a post backalong. John Grindrod hails from 46 Fairchildes Avenue, New Addington, me from nearby Mitcham, mid-way between the two is Croydon, my mum's go-to shopping venue for dressmaking fabrics (Allders) and we'd get a ride on the donkeys (Kennards). It's hard to believe that there was such a thing as donkey rides in a shopping arcade, but Kennards in the 1950s was that special. Years ago now, when I did that interview with Ralph McTell, also a Croydon lad, we spent an age talking about those donkeys; something a child would never forget.
In fact, could donkey rides for children in shopping arcades make a come-back or might health and safety, crash helmets, RSPCA, insurance, CRB checks, safe-guarding or infection control get in the way?
In a seamless blend of social history and anecdote John Grindrod has created a unique interpretation of place in Outskirts, and in doing so made that place special. Who else would bother to take a close look at an ordinary housing estate on the edge of the woods 'an intermediate nowhere', let alone make it this fascinating for the reader.
Woven into the fabric is John's remarkable family, his parents Marj and John and two brothers. Marj disabled and wheelchair-bound but don't be deceived, set aside any notions of limitations because Marj is game for anything. Whilst it might have been terrifying to cadge an excursion in her Invacar it would have been memorable for neighbour Joan Blood I am sure...(my asterisks because said words are blocked on here or I end up with spam galore)
'Marjorie on a cushion in the driver's seat, Joan next to her, like an ironing board in a mac...once behind the wheel all of her street-fighting Battersea childhood came out and she'd f*****g b*****d her way round the streets, winding down the windows and giving some van driver or reckless motorist a piece of her mind, two fingers and a bagful of bad language.'
Blended into the narrative of John's family life in the 1970s are the origins, history and development of the Green Belt, the protected chain of green land that started to purposefully surround our cities here in the UK in the post-war years, bought by councils to prevent or control further building. But someone has to live in the edge of it, on the rural boundaries, ' the intermediate nowhere' and with that came tensions and snobbery, along with class and social boundaries...the townies seen as trespassers, mocked and scorned for their lack of country knowledge. Coupled with this are the often fragile and fractured aspects of family life challenged by the gaping holes created, despite her best efforts, by John's mum's disability and illness, his dad's coping mechanisms and the family's preference for mental and emotional self-sufficiency.
'In my family, keeping it all in was the very least that could be expected of you. Forget public displays of affection, we could barely manage private displays of acquaintanceship.'
This was no more acutely demonstrated for me than in Marj's concealment of a pregnancy. hidden not for reasons of disability but by the low expectations of others.
John Grindrod doesn't flinch from examining his family's past, nor how it has affected the present, acknowledging the truths that are revealed, but sharing too the joy of that woodland across the road waiting to be explored (though by his own admission it didn't turn him into nature boy) which all makes for a fascinating and highly recommended read and I learned surprising Did-You-Know things along the way like these statistics...
Constituent Parts of the British Isles
Arable and horticulture 25%
Grassland - pasure, silage and recreation 25%
Mountains, heaths and bogs 16%
Semi-natural grasslands 13%
Coniferous woodland 6%
Broadleaf woodland 6%
Urban areas 6%
and an awful lot of golf courses.
I tended to think that cities took up a lot of space but it would seem they don't.
I'm thinking some of you, like me, might have grown up in the Green Belt ' a band of tame outdoors held in stasis' or perhaps live there now so I'd love to know your thoughts...
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